June 24th. Every General Manager, Head Coach, and front-office executive in the NBA had descended upon New York. They were making final, frantic preparations for the draft the following day. It wasn't an exaggeration to say that a single pick could alter a franchise's destiny for the next five or ten years.
However, while they were busy finalizing their draft boards, nearly every team holding a first-round pick received an email. Inside was a video.
The footage showed two men playing one-on-one. One attacking, one defending.
In the hotel suite occupied by the San Antonio Spurs.
Spurs GM RC Buford knocked on Gregg Popovich's door, carrying a laptop. "Gregg, you need to see this."
Buford set the computer on the table. Popovich adjusted his glasses, squinted at the screen, and muttered, "Isn't that Luke Thorne and Carmelo Anthony?"
"Yes," Buford replied, hitting play.
In the video, Anthony was testing Luke with a triple-threat stance. Melo jabbed, faked a shot, and then put the ball on the floor for a drive. Luke didn't yield an inch of space. The moment the ball hit the hardwood, Luke's hand flashed in and poked it away.
They played ten possessions in total. Although Luke only stopped Melo on five of them, the defensive prowess on display was undeniable.
"His defensive timing has improved," Buford marveled. In the video, Luke looked significantly sharper than he had during his private workout with the Spurs.
Popovich took off his glasses and shook his head. "No, it's that the players he faced in our scrimmage were too weak. Luke didn't need to show his full defensive ceiling that day."
Popovich tapped the table, sighing. "Well, it looks like we've lost him. Even if we trade up to the 30th pick, we won't have a chance. This is elite, NBA-level lockdown defense."
"I wonder where the kid found Anthony," Buford added regretfully. "Once this video circulates, his draft stock is going to skyrocket."
The two were helpless. Based on his workout, Luke was a late first-round flier. But this footage changed everything. His positioning, his active hands, and his shot-blocking instincts were all top-tier. If a kid who hadn't even entered the league could limit Carmelo Anthony like this, what could he do with professional coaching?
"I guess it's not meant to be," Popovich sighed, leaning back and rubbing his temples. "Go ahead and approve the trade with the Bucks."
"Is it too early for that?" Buford asked, still holding out hope. "What if he actually falls to the second round? Plenty of GMs still don't trust an Asian perimeter player to survive in the league."
Popovich didn't share that optimism. "Even if half the GMs in the league are blind, there are still smart people in those rooms. With this video out, he's not falling to the second round. Someone might even take him in the lottery."
Popovich slumped into his chair. Bruce Bowen had a year left on his contract but had lost the will to play and wanted to retire. Popovich had agreed, but on one condition: Bowen had to be part of a trade first. Their target was Richard Jefferson.
Shortly after, news broke that the Spurs would send Bowen, Kurt Thomas, and Fabricio Oberto to Milwaukee in exchange for Jefferson. The Bucks were willing to let their leading scorer go because they simply couldn't afford his salary during the global economic crisis. The Spurs had finalized the deal quickly; they realized they wouldn't be able to get Luke, so they had to secure a veteran wing instead.
In the Knicks' hotel headquarters.
Mike D'Antoni's breathing was shallow as he watched the video. He turned to Knicks GM Donnie Walsh. "Donnie, our 38th pick is useless now. We aren't getting Luke with that. Look at that defense! He's sticking to Melo like glue! We have to trade up. We must get him!"
Walsh looked grim. He and D'Antoni had only arrived the previous season and had just managed to clear out the remnants of Isiah Thomas's administration.
"Who do we trade?" Walsh asked. "Harrington? David Lee? Gallinari? Wilson Chandler? Those are the only pieces teams will want, but they're our future."
D'Antoni gripped his forehead, desperately trying to map out a scenario.
In the Nuggets' GM room.
Mark Warkentien, the newly crowned Executive of the Year, frowned at the screen. Beside him, George Karl was full of praise. "The kid is brilliant. If we could bring him here, we'd be in the Finals next year!"
"But his stock is too high now," Warkentien countered. "What was Carmelo thinking? He recommends this kid to us and then lets him film a highlight reel? Doesn't he know how much this helps the kid and hurts our chances of picking him late?"
In reality, Melo had been tricked. During their training, Luke had challenged him to a three-point contest: first one to miss had to grant the winner a favor. Luke's [Open Three-Pointer] skill had flared to life, and Melo had lost. Luke's favor? "Let me film our sessions."
Melo, a man of his word, had agreed, not realizing he was nuking the Nuggets' draft strategy.
In Luke's hotel room.
Luke was smiling at Steph and Jeff Austin. Austin was looking at Luke as if he were a ghost. Luke's tactical mind was terrifying; by leaking that video, he had boosted his projection from "Early Second Round" to "Late Lottery" in a single night.
"Jeff," Luke laughed, "it was just an idea that popped into my head. I didn't expect it to work this well!"
As the sun set on the night before the draft, the video of Luke Thorne locking down Carmelo Anthony continued to spread like wildfire through the league's front offices.